Feelin' the Vibe (17 page)

“Yes, Devin. Just a little afraid.”

“Don’t be scared. I promise I won’t hurt you again.”

“Devin, don’t lie to yourself. You really can’t make that promise.”

I wasn’t sure
I
even knew how I could uphold that promise, but I knew I wanted to. “Look, I promise that I’ll do my best to never hurt you
again. You like that better?”

She touched my face. “I like you, Devin.”

“I like you, too.”

It’s funny that as strong as the love was between us, we would only allow ourselves to verbally proclaim strong
like. Love
was too big of a cross to bear. I rolled over on my side and propped my head up on my elbow and admired her silhouette beside
me, staring at the ceiling.

I
began to squirm around six in the morning. Guilt consumed me in the form of nausea. I was sick. I needed to speak to Kenneth.
I wanted him to say something in the form of
We can get through this.
My hands stroked Devin’s shoulders as I questioned the spontaneity that was supposed to make me feel better. It was supposed
to make me more desirable to my husband. So why did I feel like a lost slut?

Finally, I slid from the bed and tiptoed into the living room, searching for my purse and my clothes that were scattered around
the floor. I pulled my phone out and sat Indian style on Devin’s soft leather sectional. I stretched Devin’s T-shirt over
my knees. His scent lingered on me as I touched the screen to see if my husband still cared. Ms. Teeny called three times.
Kenneth called twice. Sheena called shortly after Kenneth’s last call.

I dialed Sheena first, and the phone rang a few times before her voice mail picked up: “You’ve reached Sheena. Leave a message.”

I mouthed
shit
, because I needed to speak to her first, but I wanted to talk to Kenneth. As good as I felt with Devin, I still couldn’t
suppress my obligation to my marriage, to the life we’d built. Though we were at a communication dead end, I wanted to say
something, anything. I dialed home.

He answered on the first ring, but his voice was groggy. “Hello.”

“Baby.”

“Yeah, how’s it going up there? Sheena told me you went to sleep early.”

I looked up, thankful that He’d provided me with an alibi and that Sheena had stuck to the plan. “Yeah, I was so sleepy.”

“Why?” he snapped.

My heart plunged. I wasn’t sure if it was his normal arrogance or if he was insinuating something. “Mental fatigue, probably.”

“Did you get an estimate for the new beds in the group home?”

“No. Why?”

“Just asking. Did Teeny meet the new girl you hired?”

My eyes filled. I found the courage to say what I’d wanted to say for weeks. “Baby, talk to me. I’m tired of you talking around
me and about everything except us.”

“Clark. Don’t start with all the emotion. While you’re there for your little mental break, there are things that need to be
taken care of.”

Here I was, in another man’s house, emotionally pleading with him. Still, Kenneth acted as if I was irritating him. A tear
rolled down my cheek. I tried to hold back the sniffing, because I didn’t want him complaining about that. I wiped my face
and walked into the kitchen. When I opened the refrigerator door, I was happy to find several bottles of Corona lined on the
side of the door. I looked up at the clock on the stainless steel microwave. Six-twenty a.m. Somehow, all I could rationalize
drinking was an ice-cold beer.

“Kenneth, I just woke up and wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t call to talk about what I need to do. Teeny is taking care
of it.”

“I know.”

Kenneth often made me feel that I could do nothing without Teeny. That was the sacrifice I made working with him. Somehow,
he’d forgotten that I was a successful engineer before I followed my man. It always ate at me, but when he was emotionally
available, it didn’t hurt as bad. With the absence of his affection, it felt demeaning and downright disrespectful. I rummaged
through Devin’s utensil drawer for a bottle opener. Finally, I found it and quickly cracked the bottle open. I took a quick
gulp.

“Okay, I’ll call you a little later this evening.”

“Aren’t you coming home later?”

It was funny how this conversation could have gone in an entirely different direction. My plan was to leave, but Devin begged
me to stay another day. Kenneth’s attitude told me that it didn’t matter if I stayed a month. As long as the business was
taken care of, it made no difference in the world where I was. Why not stay with a man that wants to be in my company?

“Nah, Sheena has this event she wants me to go to this evening. So I’ll be home tomorrow or Saturday.”

“A’ight. I have to get ready to get to the center.”

“Okay.”

Neither of us said good-bye. Instead, the call ended with no hope. I walked over to the huge window with a fabulous view of
Manhattan. As I stood there numb, staring at the city, I wondered when or if we’d get it together. Certainly, my being here,
with nothing under my T-shirt, feeling love for Devin, couldn’t be a remedy for a crumbling marriage.

I called Ms. Teeny for some encouragement. She always knew how to make sense of Kenneth’s mood changes.

“Did you screw his brains out dot com?”

I laughed. “First of all, I’m mad that you said
screw.
But to answer your question, I think I did a pretty good job.”

“I hope you did better than just a good job.”

“Ms. Teeny, stop!”

“Girl, I hope you used those tricks I taught you.”

She had me cracking up, loud with no consideration that it wasn’t even seven o’clock in the morning.

“Yes, I did all of them.”

“He was screaming for more. Haaaaaaaa!” she screamed. “Clark got herself another piece of ass, finally.” She spoke as if being
faithful to your husband was a crime.

“Ms. Teeny, you are crazy.”

“No, girl, just crazy about new sex.”

It was no wonder Teeny was on her third marriage, but Bernard loved her to death. So she was obviously doing something right.
As I fathomed that cheating could help my bad marriage, Devin walked out of his room, wearing nothing but his boxers. My bottom
lip hung, and I was mesmerized. He smiled and mouthed, “Your husband?”

I shook my head and rushed Teeny off the phone. “Alright. I’ll call you later.”

Devin walked over and hugged me. He greeted me graciously without mumbling a word. We stood in the window, exposed, clinging
to each other, wishing we could be this free anywhere. Moments later, he kissed my forehead. “You’re up early.”

“Yeah, I wake up early. You know?”

“You want to order breakfast?”

“Ah, I guess.”

“Remember those banana pancakes you used to love?”

“Yeah.” I said, flattered that he remembered such intricate details. Then again, he always loved to make me feel good, to
comfort me, to spoil me. My head tilted slowly from side to side, wondering how he could still be so sensitive and considerate.

He stroked my hair and proceeded to roll off my order. “Banana pancakes, eggs over hard with cheese, and turkey sausage.”

“Exactly.”

He grabbed my hand and guided me to walk with him. We walked into the kitchen, and he picked up the phone and called the restaurant.
He put his arm around me. Just then, he noticed the beer in my hand. As he placed our order, he pointed and mouthed, “What’s
up with that?”

I pursed my lips and shrugged. He shook his head as if he wasn’t judging, just curious. I rubbed his face and each moment
with him made me recall why I thought he was so perfect. It seemed he was just like wine, even better than before. He made
me feel like a natural woman. Yet at home I was begging for R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

When our breakfast arrived, he said, “I was going to ask if you wanted to have mimosas, but since you’ve started off with
beer…”

“We can put orange juice in beer.”

He laughed. “I haven’t done that crazy shit since—”

“—we were together.”

“Exactly.”

I hadn’t done so many things since I’d been with him. My life had been filled with service and structure. There was a time
when that worked for me, but I was in desperate need of something more, especially since it seemed that I wouldn’t be having
kids. As I walked into the kitchen to make our beer-mosas, I found myself blushing. Devin directed me to the black see-through
cabinets. I poured equal portions of beer and orange juice into the flutes, while Devin set the dining room table.

I returned to the table and Devin sipped his drink. “It still tastes the same.”

“Really,” I said, tasting mine. “It is good.”

“Some things are just as good as the first time.”

I sank into my seat and my heart did the same. A piece of me wanted his statement to be true, but the reality that this would
be as good as before could only be trouble. He looked into my eyes and said, “Some shit never changes.”

“I know, Devin. What is that?”

He shrugged. “It could be love. It could be chemistry.”

My mind had escaped from my marital drama and moved on to what I wanted from Devin and how I could achieve some sort of compromise.
I picked up my fork, and the pancakes melted in my mouth. Nothing like the senses to rewind you back to a place in time. I
was in Devin’s first apartment, eating breakfast with my man. We had no worries, no obligations, and we were each other’s
significant other. Why didn’t we get it right the first time?

He interrupted my reminiscent mood by shaking my forearm, “So what are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“About staying an extra night. If you leave, that means this is it?”

“
It
, meaning?”

He smiled. “Meaning until you and I can get together again. I need to spend some time with Nicole and take care of some business.
When I leave, I won’t be back until around nine. If you leave, I will be missing you and not enjoying time with my baby. If
you stay, I’ll just be anticipating coming home to be with you.”

“Devin, I’m—”

He rested his hand on top of mine. “I know. It’s probably selfish of me, but it seemed like you were having a good time, too,
last night. I mean, you’re not the same woman I met a week ago. You seemed like my Clark.”

It was flattering the way he took ownership of me. He was pleading a noncase. I was convinced that I needed this for me. If
you don’t make yourself happy, you sure can’t make anyone else happy. Maybe this affair would save my marriage.

“I’ll stay.”

“Good,” he said, standing from the table and grabbing our plates. “Every little bit helps.”

He walked in the kitchen and threw the plates in the sink. When he turned on the faucet, I said, “I’ll wash them.”

“When I’m here, my housekeeper comes every day.”

I stopped in my tracks and did a slow U-turn. “Oh.”

“All I want you to do is have a good time.” He stood in front of me and brushed my hair back. My neck tilted, as I looked
up at him. He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. “A good, relaxing time.”

We went to his bedroom. He proceeded to run bathwater in the tub, while I tried Sheena again.

“Clark, why in the world were you calling me at six o’clock this morning?”

“Because I knew Kenneth probably called you.”

“He did and I told him you were asleep.”

“I just wanted to make sure.”

“Where are you, anyway?”

“I told you I got a hotel. I just needed a break.”

I heard Devin talking on the phone and completely blocked out Sheena’s voice. I stepped closer to the bathroom. “Taylor J,”
he said. “I miss you.”

My heart sank. How could he be claiming to be having the time of his life with me, but missing her? I told Sheena I’d be to
her house shortly and hung up. Posing in the doorway of the bathroom, I watched him quietly. When he noticed my presence,
he wrapped his conversation up.

“Yeah, baby…. No, no. She’s out of school today…. Yeah…. No…. A’ight. Have a good day. I’ll talk to you later.”

I shifted my weight onto the opposite foot, wondering if he’d have the audacity to pledge his love while I stood there. He
pressed
END
, and it seemed like a feeling of relief came over me. I felt bad, because I didn’t want him to be in marital bliss when I
wasn’t.

“You ready to get in the tub?” He reached out for my hand. “Take a bath with me.”

I wanted to be resistant, but how could I be mad at him? We were both being unfaithful to other people. Devin lifted my T-shirt
over my head and admired my body. I shifted uncomfortably and he wrapped his arms around me. He stepped from his pants and
helped me into the tub first. The water was warm and inviting, and the sea salt opened up my sinuses. My pores felt free and
clear, as Devin stepped in behind me. My back rested on his chest and my arms rested on his knees. We relaxed and reminisced
and forgot about the other side of our lives. He reached down in front of me, rubbing me in between my legs. I turned to kiss
him. It felt right. It was passionate. He dipped the sponge in the water and drained it on different parts of my body. Then
on my hair, drenching my one-hundred-dollar hairdo. Yet my heart pounded with excitement, anxious to feel him in me again.